The Witch, The Castle and the Detective
by JackieBrenton
Summary: "Are you happy with him?" Harry dropped off the earth after Hermione picked Ron and married him. Now Mione's investigating a haunting in a Muggle castle, and who should be the detective on to the case but the Man-Who-Conquered-then-disappeared? Harry and Hermione explore their chemistry while trying to live with the mistakes and choices of the past. Inspired by a Harlequin novel.
1. The Fall

**Hi, readers.**

**This is my first Harry/Hermione story. I stand by my opinion that Hermione deserves more than Ron. And even Rowling confessed that there was always a pull between Harry and Hermione, no matter how hard she tried to keep them apart.**

**So though I love their friendship and the platonic relationship and wouldn't change it in the books, it calls for a little fun in fanfiction.**

**This story is inspired by a Harlequin book I read long ago, where two people investigate a castle. All credit goes to JKR and the writer of the Harlequin book. I do not own anything, except the plot points.**

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Hermione got out of the train and stretched, taking in the small station she was in. She loved travelling by train, especially because of her childhood journeys to and from Hogwarts. Because of that, she always felt trains were somehow all part of a magical journey, and it gave her a thrill to watch the countryside whip past her window.

A man approached her. "Miss Granger? Lady Grey asked me to escort you up to the castle."

Hermione smiled politely at him, and said, "Thank you."

He proceeded to hoist all her luggage(there was a considerable amount of it) onto his head, and walked out of the station. Keeping an eye on the pile tottering on his head, Hermione followed him. She climbed into an impeccably clean, yet old-fashioned carriage, remembering fondly, once again, the Thestral rides to the castle.

For the past year and a half, she had been working at Hogwarts as the Charms teacher, after Professor Flitwick decided to retire to his summer villa in Hawaii. A few weeks before the start of another school year, Headmistress McGonagall had approached her. An old friend of hers, the last in the line of X, feared her home was haunted by a poltergeist.

Minerva had reminisced fondly about her friend, "Vera was one of my only Muggle friends who truly knew what I was. She never held my magic against me, though. Probably because her family lore paints her ancestors to have magical powers."

Minerva had further explained that she wanted Hermione to investigate, and to try and kick the poltergeist out of the castle.

"Castle?" Hermione had asked.

"Oh, yes, dear. Her late husband, Mark, was the Lord of Sherrington, which lies in the mountains. They own a castle there. I was hoping you could stay in their castle and investigate?"

Hermione had agreed, and now here she was, being trundled up to a castle, in a horse-driven carriage, from a railway station, in a town that was a curious mix of the old and the new.

She opened up her letter from Lady Grey, reading it again.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Minerva has explained that you are her best student and that there is no one better to help me. I should explain the situation to you. The Historical Board of Sherrington wants to purchase the castle and convert into a museum, or to dismantle it and sell it to bidders. But this is my home, and I shall not let that happen. What first started as rumours about a haunting at the castle, has turned true. A ghost seems to walk the corridors, though Minerva says I should call it a poltergeist. I cannot leave the castle, as that means the Board will take over. So please help me get rid of the poltergeist._

_For sake of appearances, we shall pretend that you are my friend's daughter, come to visit me for the summer holidays._

_Thank you,_

_Vera._

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She realised the carriage had stopped, and the door opened. She climbed out, and was met by a slim, pretty woman, in her mid-forties. Worry lines had deepened the few wrinkles she had, and her hair was artfully pinned up. She was dressed, however, in a modern blouse and skirt.

"Hermione! Welcome, dear, and thank you once again for coming."

Her smile brightened up her face, and Hermione immediately liked her.

As they walked up the pathway, Vera said, in a low voice, "I should have telephoned ahead. There has been.. a complication."

"Already?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Vera, looking around subtly to see if they were being watched. "The Board hired a paranormal activity detective. I am afraid he will be a hindrance to you."

They reached the steps leading to the huge front door.

As they climbed it, Vera muttered, "He was supposed to be here to greet you. No punctuality, I suppose."

Suddenly there was a ear-splitting creaking sound. A dark figure dashed towards her from behind a pillar and plowed into her, sending her crashing onto the floor a few feet away.

And part of the wooden beam from the roof collapsed on the very spot she had been standing, a second ago.

Hermione realised she was panting in shock. She took deep breaths to calm herself, and suddenly realised that she was lying atop her rescuer. Her legs were entangled in his, and her hair was all over his face. Whoever he was, she owed her life to him. She raised her head shakily, trying to meet his eyes and thank him.

She froze. That unruly spread of jet-black hair, with that patch that stuck up in the back, and those piercing green eyes behind those skewed spectacles.

She clambered off him with a speed that must have made her look comical. He got up slowly, brushing dust off his formal shirt and pants, as Vera said, shakily, "Thank goodness you were here, Mr. Potter. Hermione, this was who I was just telling you about. Mr. Potter, this is Miss Hermione Granger."

He stretched his hand out towards her, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Call me Harry."

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**_There is fraction of plot in this story, but also enough smut to keep us happy. After all, what's sex without a fight?_**

**_Read the next chapter to find out why Hermione's shocked to see Harry, and why Harry is so cool to her. What's he doing as a paranormal activity detective anyway?_**

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**Review! Please! Also check out my other stories!**


	2. The Past

**Another chapter for you guys...**

**And you should know its so much fun writing these...**

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_She looks as beautiful as ever, _thought Harry, as he followed Hermione and Vera into the castle. Vera kept nervously checking the roof, clearly expecting another beam to fall any second.

Harry, however, was trying to keep his eyes off Hermione. It had been almost two years since he'd seen her, and yet his heart was beating as fast as it had the last time he'd seen her.

The last time he'd seen her...His mind drifted away, even as he followed Vera around the castle, who was showing Hermione the place.

It had been a week after the Last Battle. They were in the backyard of the Burrow, lying stretched out in the grass under Ginny's window. Ron wasn't around, he was out with his father.

Harry and Hermione were fighting.

"Why did you break up with her, Harry?"

"Because she deserves better, Hermione." Harry said, through gritted teeth.

Hermione said fiercely, "She doesn't want better, she wants you. She loves you."

Harry thrust his face close to Hermione's and Hermione flinched, but didn't draw back.

"But I don't. I don't love her. You know that. I know that. She didn't, so I told her."

Hermione's gaze flitted from one of his to the other, and then to his lips.

"Harry-"

"No. You picked Ron. I get it. I'll learn to live with it."

Hermione looked pained. "Harry, please, I-"

"Don't."

And Harry walked off.

The next day, Harry and Ron had started their Ministry jobs, and Hermione had joined Hogwarts six months later, when it reopened. Hermione and Harry never saw each other again. Until now.

Vera suddenly said, "Ah, well, I could show you the castle all day long, Hermione, dear. Why don't you go rest, unpack and freshen up in your room before dinner?"

Hermione smiled gratefully at Vera. "Thank you, Lady Grey. I am a little tired. A nap would be wonderful."

"Call me Vera, dear."

Harry interrupted. "I'll show her to her room, shall I? Seeing as its in the same wing?"

Vera opened her mouth to object, but shrugged. She smiled again at Hermione and left.

There was a stretching silence in which Hermione looked at her shoes, and Harry looked at her downcast face.

"You look as stunning as ever, Hermione," said Harry.

Hermione looked startled at this compliment, then pleased, then confused. A slight blush coloured her cheeks, which Harry found even more adorable.

Then he started to lead her down the corridors. He kept up a steady chatter, which Hermione knew was unlike him, but was glad of, because it held the awkwardness at bay.

"The castle is under renovation. The only wings that are inhabitable are the main wing, where Lady Grey has her rooms. The other wing is the newest one, furthest from the entrance. Which is where your rooms, and mine, are."

Soon her seemed to run out of things to say, and the air became heavy with the past.

"How's Ron?" asked Harry, and though his voice was light, Hermione could hear some pain underneath it.

Hermione pondered for a moment, how to put it.

"Ron and I- we broke it off."

"The engagement? When?"

"About a year and a half ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Hermione."

Hermione was startled to hear the unmistakable note of sincerity in his voice. But then, even if he didn't get Hermione, he wasn't the type to begrudge her a happy ending, even if it was with somebody other than him.

She remembered how he'd watched her cry in her bunk, for weeks after Ron left. One day, they'd been sitting next to each other, eating. He'd seen a tear fall from her eye. He'd dropped his sandwich, and turned to her.

"Hermione." And he'd hugged her.

Then he'd looked into her eyes, and said, "I love you."

To this day, Hermione couldn't explain the mixed feelings she'd had when she'd heard those words. Part of her had died and gone to heaven, and the other had a sinking feeling that if Ron found out, he'd never get over it.

Just as Harry was about to kiss her, she moved away. She saw the hurt and rejection in Harry's eyes.

There was a long silence, and Harry had said, "Do you want to be with Ron?"

She nodded, another tear falling from her eye. Harry had left the tent, and had never talked about the incident again.

And once again, when she had kissed Ron for the first time, dropping all the Basilisk fangs, she had stupidly, stupidly forgotten that Harry was right there next to them. His face had been one of agony, to see Hermione kissing Ron, but he'd pushed it away, to continue searching for the Horcrux.

Now Harry stopped suddenly, in front of a couple of doors opposite each other, and Hermione had almost walked into him. He turned, and looked down at her. "This is your room," he said.

There was a silence, and they stared into each other's eyes. Hermione's heart was beating faster, faster, and she wondered if she was ready to move on from Ron, and finally face her feelings for Harry.

Harry was leaning closer and closer. She closed her eyes.

There was a click. Harry had leant forward to open the door behind her.

"Good night, Hermione."

And he disappeared through the door set in the opposite wall.

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**Now that the past is sorted out and we know whats keeping them apart, lets get down to business.**

**Let the seducing begin...**

**Is it just me, or is this new Harry sexier, and so much more confident?**


	3. The Earring

**Another quick chapter for you guys!**

**Hope you like it, 'cause I'm loving the response so far.**

**Do review, please!**

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Just as Hermione was brushing her hair, there was a knock on her door. Knowing that it must be Harry, wanting to walk with her for dinner, she called out, "Come in"

And he entered.

Hermione smiled at him in greeting, and he returned it.

He seated himself on the couch and began to browse through a magazine, as she walked around the room, rummaging in her luggage for earrings.

As she passed behind him on the couch, she could smell shampoo and cologne. He'd just showered. His hair looked soft, silky and was still slightly damp from the shower. And that patch of hair that always stood up. She had a sudden urge to smooth it down.

She found her earrings. Putting them on, she moved on to picking shoes.

She was contemplating the line-up next to the doorway, when suddenly she felt Harry rise and stand next to her.

"That's a lot of luggage, Hermione. Undetectable extension charm not doing it for you anymore?"

Hermione laughed. "No, I didn't want anybody stumbling across it, that's all."

She picked a comfortable pair of flats, and pulled them on. Straightening her hair, she looked over at Harry to find him watching her.

"What? Is this dress too informal for dinner?"

At her question, he let his eyes deliberately rove over her pale green top with the material bunched just below her breasts, the rest flowing to her hips. He noticed she stiffened under his gaze. He let his eyes slowly move up to her face, which was slightly red.

"You look mighty fine to me," he said.

Hermione quickly left the room, not knowing how to answer that.

As they walked down the corridors, Hermione had to fall in step with Harry, as she didn't know the way back. And he was moving too slowly for her liking. He kept asking questions, about her, about her job, if she liked it.

Suddenly, he lay a hand on her wrist, gesturing for her to be silent. They were outside a door, and they could hear voices.

"The Board's hired a detective," they heard a man say.

Then one more said, "Do you think he'll figure it out?"

"He seems sharp enough, but I don't think he'll be trouble. Anyway, he can't prove the haunting wrong, can he? No one can."

"What about that girl who's visiting the Lady? He seems to know her."

There was a chuckle. "I'm sure he wishes he did. Probably got the hots for her. Did you get a look at her?"

Hermione clenched her fists, but didn't dare look at Harry's reaction. He didn't have just the hots for her. He loved her.

Then she reminded herself that that had been two years ago. This Harry seemed cool, aloof, and certainly not in love with her.

Suddenly, there were footsteps coming towards the door. Realising they were going to be caught, Harry frantically looked around, and pulled her into a linen closet, just as the men walked out.

The men were apparently walking back the way Harry and Hermione had just come. They passed by the closet, and Hermione held her breath.

Suddenly, one of the men stopped, right outside the closet. "Say, what's this?"

Hermione flinched, drawing backwards, which put her flush again Harry's front.

There was a rustling sound outside the door, and the other man said, "Do you think it the niece's?"

The first one replied, "Must be. Do you think they left for dinner already?"

"I think so."

"Well, let's go then."

Hermione was finding it hard to concentrate on what they were saying, and was instead focussed entirely on how Harry's silent breaths were tickling her neck, and how toned and hard his muscled chest seemed behind her.

There was silence outside the door, and after a minute, both of them relaxed.

She stepped out of the door, looking carefully up and down the corridor. As Harry stepped out, she asked, "What do you think they were talking about, asking if it was mine?"

Harry shook his head. "No idea, but they seem to be involved in this haunting somehow."

There was a silence, and they looked at each other.

Harry's eyes skimmed her face, his expression unrecognisable.

Suddenly, he reached out and touched her bare ear.

_Bare. Why is it bare? _thought Hermione. Her fingers reached swiftly to feel for her left earring, and she realised it was missing.

Harry said, "That must be what they found outside the closet."

"Oh," said Hermione. She couldn't say anymore, because Harry's fingers, which had been touching her ear, now brushed back her hair. When she didn't say anything, but had frozen in place, his touch had moved across her cheek, stroking it slightly with the back of his fore-finger.

She tore her gaze off the floor, and forced herself to look at him. She was stunned to see that his cool, laid-back expression was gone. And in it's place was the look of the Harry she loved. He was looking at her with sad, caring eyes, and for a moment she was thrown back into the past, when he looked at her the same way, back in the tent.

And just like back then, his face was suddenly inching closer to hers. Her heart started beating quickly, but her brain seemed to be thinking sluggishly.

_What do I do?_ She screamed at herself. But she knew, as she watched his eyes turn hopeful, that this time, she ought to do the right thing, and kiss him, like she should have three years ago in that tent.

Their eyes fluttered close at the first touch of their lips, and Hermione forgot everything- the past, the misunderstandings, the fights and the tears- as she lost herself in those soft lips she'd dreamed about since sixth-year.

They kissed for what seemed like a long time, though neither of them dared to make it an open-mouthed kiss. This kiss was special. Their first kiss.

The kiss that Harry had wanted for three years, that Hermione had denied him even though she knew she was attracted to him.

Slowly, Hermione pulled back. She wondered, light-headedly, how long Harry would kiss her if she just stood there.

Her eyes flew open slowly, and she looked into Harry's eyes.

His green orbs were bright, and seemed to have a warmth she hadn't seen in them in a long time.

There was another silence, and this time neither wanted to break it, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Then, Harry said, "So...dinner."

Hermione started. "Yes, of course. Dinner."

And they started off down the corridor. And when next Hermione caught Harry's gaze, she saw his eyes were drawn and cool once more, though he smiled back when she gave him a tentative smile.

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**Oooh! Gave you a taste of what's to come.**

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	4. The Walk

**I'm kind of having writer's block right now...**

**But my holidays are approaching, and I'm sure my ideas will start popping right back up..**

**Thankfully I have a bunch of chapters stocked for this story..**

**Thank you for the support!**

**If you like this better, check out my other two stories... you'll like them too!**

**Enough talk, let's get to the chapter.**

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Harry and Hermione were walking down a narrow pathway over the grounds of the castle. They were heading to a small chapel nestled among some woods at the end of the property.

Deciding now was the time to ask some questions, she asked, "So, Harry, are you really a detective, or is it another undercover Auror job?"

Harry stopped, and Hermione had to keep herself from walking into him again. Really, she thought to herself, annoyed that she kept doing that.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Have you been going through my stuff?"

Hermione looked surprised, then she let out a laugh. "You mean I'm right? I was just guessing when I asked if you were undercover. You were an Auror after all, before you disappeared."

There was a pause, and both of them could feel the question hanging in the air. Why had he disappeared?

He cleared his throat, and set off down the narrow pathway again. He said, "When I-" and he paused, shooting her a look, " When I decided to spend some time away from...everything, I joined a detective agency. Closest to what I liked best, but still a Muggle job. And when I heard about this job, it seemed to have some distinct signs of magic. So I came to check it out."

Hermione asked curiously, "Signs of magic? Like what?"

"That's for you to find out," he said, annoyingly. Obviously, he wasn't going to tell her all his detective-gathered info, even for old time's sake.

Hermione exclaimed, "Oh, come on. I'm working with you even though Lady Grey thinks you're with the Board. I'm still trying to convince her that we are really good friends. Were, I mean. Uh, are- that is-"

And Hermione's voice trailed off embarrassingly, and she flushed red, not wanting to look at Harry to see his reaction.

He stopped suddenly and turned, so that she was extremely close to him. His cool eyes looked down at her red face, and said, "We are still friends, Hermione. We're just friends. The way you said, remember?" And he turned away, but not before Hermione caught a brief glimpse of his pained expression.

Her heart squeezed in pain, and she realised that this wasn't going to be easy. One sweet kiss wasn't going to erase all their problems, making them forget why it hadn't worked out sooner.

She walked swiftly after him, calling his name. He didn't stop, but walked faster than ever down the path. She was soon running, and she caught his wrist, barely pulling him to a stop.

He stopped, but still faced away from her. They were almost at the graveyard. They could see the stone chapel up ahead, and the shadows of weathered headstones behind it.

She said, stutteringly, "Harry...I'm sorry."

He gave what sounded like a growl.

She walked around to face him, and put her hands on either side of his face. First he tried to pull back, then he let her, his eyes staring at her apprehensively.

"I'm sorry I picked him over you. You don't think I regret it? That I thought over it every day for the past two years?"

The word seemed to slip out of Harry's mouth before he could stop it.

"No," he said, and a look of dejected sadness came over his face.

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. Poor Harry. He did not know she had loved him even longer than he'd loved her. She's never told him, so how would he know?

And he thought she'd chosen Ron, and never looked back. And now that she'd ended it with Ron, he thought she was playing with him.

But she couldn't tell him she'd liked him since 6-th year. Because then how would she explain picking Ron? How would she justify it, when even she didn't know why she picked Ron?

Harry was turning away, but Hermione pulled him back. Putting her arms around him in a close embrace, she tilted her face to his, and gave him a soft, deep kiss.

And when she parted her lips, he responded in kind. And their tongues met, exploring each other's mouth in joy and passion. Hermione's hands roamed over Harry's back, as his hands buried themselves in her hair.

Suddenly the kiss changed to one of passion, with Harry delving his tongue deeper into her mouth. They opened their mouths wider and dove into each other, pressing their bodies closer together too.

Harry was tasting her furiously...his tongue tracing her teeth and the inside of her cheek, then darting back to taste her lips hungrily.

Hermione was shocked at how his mood had turned, but she went along willingly, caught in the fire of passion. She held herself close to him, revelling in the feel of his hard chest, that she had been thrown against on occasion.

She bit his lip slightly and pulled, eliciting a low growl from him.

And so it went on, until they had to stop for air.

They broke apart, and Hermione's heart fell to her stomach when she saw that Harry looked the same as ever- heartbroken, dejected, and worst of all, cautious of her.

He still hadn't opened himself to her.

He wouldn't meet her eyes, and her heart wrenched in pain. On one hand was the calculative Harry, with the seductive looks and snarky remarks, making her all hot and bothered in the right places. On the other hand, was sweet Harry, with his insecurities, his love for her, the one she didn't know how to console.

She watched him turn his back on her and head for the graveyard.

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**Is it too short? :D I certainly think so..**

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	5. The Prank

**Here's another chapter for you guys!**

**Reviews are love!**

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It was a boring afternoon they had spent in the graveyard, as Hermione and Harry had taken turns noting down the names of the dead in chronological order, and waving their wands over the headstones with a simple spell to check if any one of the graves had any traces of the spirits.

However, Harry said it wasn't foolproof, and the trace would have to be very recent for the spell to pick it up.

"Our only chance is to see if we can come across anything to do with these names in the family history," said Harry.

"To the library it is, then," said Hermione, and shot a look at Harry. She was rewarded with a small chuckle at the reference to the library.

Hermione's heart jumped at the sound of his laughter.

Then they had gone back to the castle for tea, which was always awkward. Harry always seemed to be more attentive and talkative to Hermione when Lady Grey was around. Hermione didn't like this, but she couldn't very well protest to him when they were alone. Lady Grey was very much upset at their seeming friendship. She was afraid Harry would convince Hermione to side with the board.

And Lady Grey was sharp enough to pick up on all the flirty comments Harry made to Hermione. She was appalled that Harry would do so, who couldn't care less. And Hermione made matters worse when she blushed or did anything of that sort, leading the Lady to believe she was starting to get attracted to Harry.

_Which is the understatement of the year,_ thought Hermione. She couldn't quite control her reactions when Harry fake-flirted with her in front of the Lady. For one, she thought the aloof Harry was quite hot. And for the other, her body was starting to respond to Harry in ways she was finding hard to hide. And thirdly, she knew she childishly hoped that the real Harry was somewhere behind this facade, enjoying flirting with her.

They had been eating silently for about five minutes now, and Harry was seated across from her. He was dressed in a green shirt that brought out his eyes, and tailored brown pants. Hermione and the Lady were both in flowing dresses that ended just below their knees. However, the lady's was grander than Hermione's.

Suddenly there was a clatter as Lady Grey dropped her fork and knife. Harry said, in a voice that seemed to be hiding amusement, "Sorry, Lady Grey, I think I kicked you by mistake. I was just stretching my legs. Got a cramp, I think, from walking across the rocks. I apologise."

Vera's gaze relaxed, and they resumed eating.

Harry asked Hermione, "How are your feet? Would you like me to maybe give them a massage later?"

Hermione blushed at the notion, and stuttered that her feet were fine, thank you.

Suddenly, there was another clatter, as Hermione dropped _her_ fork. She'd felt something touch her foot.

She tried to hold in a gasp, as she realised it was _Harry!_

She shot him a glare, then immediately wiped her face clean of emotion, seeing that Vera was looking at her. However, it was too late. Vera had noticed. She looked suspiciously at Harry, then at Hermione.

Harry had his eyes on his plate, cutting his chicken. Hermione jumped slightly in her chair, feeling Harry's foot trail up her ankle, up to her calf.

"Are you okay, dear?" asked Vera.

"Fine, Vera," said Hermione, in a slight squeak.

Harry pretended not to notice this deviation from the topic of conversation, and continued.

Harry declared, "Sore feet is a small price to pay for the fresh air. Exercise is the best thing for idle feet. Nothing better!"

If Harry hadn't kicked Vera in the ankles by mistake, she would have never guessed. But she realised that Harry was playing _footsie_ with Hermione!

Vera choked on her wine as this struck her, and she turned red, both from anger at the pure nerve of Potter, and the embarrassment of having to watch both their reactions.

Hermione could barely eat. Who would have ever thought footsie would be so sexual?

And heat was shooting up her leg, right to her abdomen, at the touch of Harry's skin on hers. She tried to control her reaction, knowing that Vera knew what was going on.

But her face was turning red, and she had goosebumps. Her heart was beating fast at the thought of what she was doing. She wasn't even concentrating on Harry's one sided conversation anymore.

Then suddenly, his foot was gone. She sighed, in relief or disappointment, she did not know.

Suddenly, she gave another gasp, knocking her empty glass over. Harry had merely switched feet.

Vera did not even glance up at her exclamation, instead content to just shoot Harry a deathly glare. He had looked politely miffed.

The moment tea was over, Vera informed that she had work to take care of, and she retired to her wing of the castle.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione turned furiously to Harry, her face red.

"I can't believe you did that!"

"Did what?" asked Harry, all innocent.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you? Pretended to kick Vera by mistake, so she'd pick up at once that you were footsie-ing me."

Harry gave a comical mock-gasp. "She knew?"

Hermione snorted. "Don't pretend! How am I ever going to live this down with her? She was watching me the whole time!" and Hermione gave an exclamation of frustration.

Harry gave a chuckle, then another, then collapsed into laughter. However, Hermione did not join in.

"I hate this, you know."

"Hate what?" asked Harry, still chuckling.

"The way you keep flirting with me, whenever she'd around?"

Harry's laughter had stopped. He said, "Would you like it if I did it when she isn't around?"

Hermione's stern look slipped into one of surprise. She went slightly red, and without answering the question, stalked off into the corridors.

Behind her, she heard Harry say, in a low voice, "Very well."

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**That was to give you guys a taste of what's to come...**

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	6. The Confession

**Thank you for the follows and favourites!**

**Hope you like this chapter. I loved writing it because some important milestones are passed here.**

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The next morning, after breakfast, Harry and Hermione decided to read up on the family history in the library. Harry, however, seemed to have a new plan of action.

"Lady Grey says the antics of the poltergeist have been confined to the East Wing, mostly. Why don't I just wander around there, wait for it to come to me?"

"And what are you going to do once it appears?"

"Good point. Let's go to the library."

The library was a vast and huge one, with an arched ceiling, and stained glass windows that filtered the sunlight. They looked around, picking books they might need, and piled them onto a table. Hermione was sitting on one end of a couch, and Harry plopped himself next to her, so close that their legs brushed.

Hermione stiffened, and tried to move away from him, but she was already at the end of the couch, against its arm. She was about to rise, when Harry said, "Just like old times, isn't it?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile, and decided, against her better judgement, to stay.

And they split up the books and started working.

When she was about halfway through her pile of books, and the rise was well on its way to the top of the sky, she looked over at Harry and was startled to find him watching her.

He'd been caught off guard, but now his walls shot up again, and his eyes lost their warmth.

"What?" Hermione asked hotly, anger welling up again at how easily he switched from one personality to the other.

Harry placed a hand on her thigh, which was clad in a short skirt. He said, in a low voice, "You look very beautiful today." His voice sounded huskier than usual, the way guys put on a fake voice to flirt.

It did not have the same ring of truth when he'd told her she'd looked beautiful the first day she'd arrived at Sherrington.

So she glared at him, and asked, "What do you think you're playing at?"

Harry looked surprised, but then smiled slyly at her, saying, "I'm flirting with you when Lady Grey's not around."

Tears of fury and hurt rushed to her eyes, and shot she shot up, off the couch, and his hand dropped from her thigh.

"This is all just a game to you, isn't it?" cried Hermione, tears spilling over onto her face.

And she fled from the room. She did not see Harry's look of regret.

He rose quickly, and followed her.

She ran all the way back to her rooms. She was quick, and by the time Harry caught up to her, she was already at her door.

"Hermione...wait!" he called. She remembered how she's called to him yesterday in the graveyard, and he hadn't stopped.

She stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincerely upset. "I was just kidding around. I didn't mean- to make you cry."

Hearing the real Harry in his words, she turned hopefully.

As she drew closer to him, however, his face hardened, and the mask fell over his face.

Her chest hurt, and she spat angrily, "I hate this! I hate how you- you turn everything off when I come too close."

Harry looked at her, shocked.

"I hate this cold and calculative look you have, like you're aloof, and don't care. Because you don't! I hate that!"

Harry's face seemed to fill with rage, and he spat back, "Would you care? Would you care if your best friend who cut you out of her life came back three years later, begging to be kissed?"

Hermione was furious. "Is that what you think I am? Begging to be kissed?"

She looked absolutely glorious, her hair astray, her cheeks red with anger, her fists clenched and her perfect chest heaving up and down in deep breaths.

_She is absolutely begging to be kissed , _Harry thought, his eyes flitting to her flushed cheeks, and her full lips, remembering how soft they'd felt, yesterday...and the feel of her hands on him.

Pushing those thoughts away, he snarled, "Yes. And seeing as I'm the one who begged for a kiss three years ago, it's taken you long enough to catch up, hasn't it?"

Something seemed to break inside of Hermione, and she screamed at him, "I've liked you since before you even noticed Ginny! You're the one who was too blind to notice. Don't you dare-"

Then she froze, immediately regretting saying it.

Harry was stock-still, and staring at her, wide-eyed. In a breathless whisper, he said, "What?

Harry's mind seemed to be working at full-speed. Hermione knew, in a few seconds, he would ask the questions she dreaded the most. The questions to which she had no answers.

Wanting to be as far away from Harry as possible, she fled into her room and slammed and bolted the door.

And she collapsed onto the floor in front of the door and burst into tears.

Harry was on the other side, listening.

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